


Don't know when I'll be back again

by weepingnaiad



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And teach Sif to knit, BAMF Melinda May, Because she can outfly an F-15, Community: trope_bingo, Gen, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Or more like only in my mad ramblings, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lady Sif drops in for a visit and Phil learns that he has underestimated the Asgardians yet again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't know when I'll be back again

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** The ever amazing clio_jlh who took this on despite being sick. Thank you, m'dear! As always I fiddle after she's finished and all mistakes are on me.
> 
>  **A/N:** I really just had a plot bunny when I heard that Sif was visiting this show, then I stalled. But I needed to post this before it gets Joss'd by actual _plot._ And I stole the title from "Leaving on a Jet Plane" written by John Denver. The one stuck in my head was performed by Peter, Paul, and Mary.

"Sir, you might want to look at this," Simmons says.

Coulson does not sigh and he most certainly does not roll his eyes and think _'Honestly? We can't even make a refueling stop in the middle of Nebraska without something coming up?'_ What he does is carefully mark his place with a vintage Captain America bookmark, close his book, and move to the lab after setting his reading aside.

Simmons and Fitz are chattering at each other, their accents and the topic at hand blending into a nearly incomprehensible patois. But Coulson has been around long enough to know that whatever is on the screen is familiar in a déjà vu way even if it's impossible that he's seen such an anomaly before.

Instead of giving in to the twinge of instinct, he asks, "What is it?" and directs his eyes away from the screen and toward the two geniuses.

"That's just it, sir, we don't know."

"You can tell me nothing about it?" he questions, probably a little too harshly. But honestly, can anyone blame him? Thanks to a misunderstanding with a macho flyboy in an F-15, May had had to perform a couple of nearly impossible maneuvers in mid-air using more fuel than planned, forcing them to land at the civilian airport in Omaha. If the fighter pilot hadn't been so trigger happy or the airport authority had more 'authority' and less 'hot air' they would have already been winging their way back to HQ. As it is they are going on their third hour of negotiations for fuel and Phil is aching for the break that he was promised.

Simmons nearly flinches at his tone and Fitz gives him a dark look. "Sorry. I'm a bit snappish."

"That's quite alright, sir. We're all a bit on edge," Simmons just smiles.

"The anomaly?" he prods.

"Oh! Right. The readings are familiar. We've both seen them before."

"I'm searching the SHIELD databases for a match right now," Fitz chirps.

That itch at the back of his neck makes itself known again. Phil has seen this. He'd swear to it. "That's... I know that signal."

Just as Fitz cries, "Ah ha!" May shouts "What the hell?" and the screen explodes in a flash of rainbow light.

"What the hell was that?" Ward shouts, running into the lab from the gym, gun drawn despite being only in a tight tank and loose shorts.

Phil's holding his sidearm and already moving when he replies over his shoulder. "Don't know. Going to find out."

"But, sir!" Fitz tries to get his attention, but it's too late. The ramp is already going down and Phil, with Melinda at his side -- he isn't surprised she shows up so quickly, he stopped being surprised by Melinda a couple of months after meeting her -- is striding down it.

"Son of Coul!"

"Lady Sif," Phil says, nonplussed, but he's holstering his weapon and stepping forward with his right hand extended.

Instead of a handshake, he's pulled into a too-firm embrace. Sif may not reach Thor's epic proportions but she's no slouch and it takes a moment for Phil to catch his breath once she releases him.

"My lady, it is a pleasure to see you again," he greets and Sif gives him a beatific smile.

"It is good to see _you_ hale and hearty. When my brother saw you enter Valhalla I was saddened that we had not been able to share a tankard."

Phil blinks as he processes Sif's words. He's sure he looks utterly gobsmacked.

"But when he said you did not linger, then I knew the truth of your legend."

"Legend?" Phil looks over his shoulder hoping that May had grown bored and left, but she's still standing there, her usual stoic self, though she does give him a slightly arched brow and quick shoulder shrug.

"Of course. None but the greatest of warriors are returned from Valhalla. Thor yet sings of your confrontation with the Trickster. I would not have believed a mortal could have the skill or courage to do such a thing. But, having met Thor's beloved and knowing your tale, I now realize I may have misjudged all of Midgard."

Phil tries very hard not to think about Thor singing his praises. That's just a bridge too far, especially in light of what he knows about his "return" from Valhalla. He tries to gain control of the conversation, but instead finds himself asking, "Your brother guards Valhalla?" He barely keeps from slapping his face and does pinch his lips together to keep further inanities from bursting forth.

"Heimdall?" Sif cocks her head down at Phil. "Nay. That honor is granted to the Valkyries. Thor had requested that he watch over all of Thor's friends from this realm, so he yet does."

Phil seems to be missing half the conversation. "Thor asked Heimdall… your brother… to watch over me?" he asks, carefully enunciating the words.

"Aye. 'Tis a good thing for my brother was the first to notice when the Lady Jane disappeared from his sight."

"Does that have something to do with that ship in Greenwich?" Phil asks.

Sif's eyes are knowing and she easily takes his arm and turns them toward the bus. "It does, but has no bearing on my task at hand. We can catch up over mead after I have fulfilled my duties."

Phil allows himself to be turned back up the ramp where they stop in front of Melinda. He takes a breath, then blows it out.

"Lady Sif, this is Agent Melinda May, as fierce and strong a warrior as we have on Midgard." Phil is pleased with the slight curl of Melinda's lips from his pronouncement. "May, this is the Lady Sif of Asgard, a compatriot of Thor's."

Phil zones out as it dawns on him: if Thor knows he lives, then the rest of the Avengers are likely to as well. _'Well, shit.'_ He barely registers the two warriors sizing each other up.

"Well met, Agent Melinda May." Sif offers her arm and grips Melinda's forearm when she extends her hand to shake.

"It is good to meet you," Melinda replies, her eyes assessing Sif.

Sif glances at Phil. "I was unaware that your corps includes females. I am, yet again, pleasantly surprised by you Midgardians."

Melinda bristles, misunderstands Sif's expression. "Why? You are a formidable warrior, do you believe me to be any less so?"

Before Sif can reply, Phil intervenes. "We recruit for ability here at S.H.I.E.L.D., ma'am." He bustles them into the cargo bay where Ward is standing wide-eyed, but stony faced with his weapon lowered to his side.

Sif strides forward eyes sweeping up and down Ward's bare legs and arms. "Are you the formidable Agent May's concubine?"

Phil chokes, there's a rash of that going around, mostly from the lab where Skye has joined the science twins, but he regains his composure despite Ward gaping like a beached fish. "Uh, actually, my lady, this is Agent Grant Ward, he is also assigned to my detail."

Sif looks at him utterly disbelieving. "Truly? Nay, no warrior can fight in such attire. He looks to be ready to be bedded, not for war, not even for skirmishing." She turns back to Ward. "Is your skin impervious?" She reaches out and strokes his arm. "It feels no different than my own."

The peals of laughter from the lab are louder now and Phil has to glare at the trio over Ward's fish face. He restrains Melinda who growls at Sif's familiarity.

Phil intervenes again. "You misunderstand, my lady. This is our home and none of us are prepared for battle at this moment."

Her eyes narrow and then she glances around, taking in the cars, the lab, the cavernous interior. "This behemoth is your home and not a bird of war?"

"We are a highly mobile unit. This _plane_ allows us to quickly fly to any place on Midgard where we are needed." Phil has successfully distracted Sif and he moves them away from Ward who's slowly turning purple. Phil hisses over his shoulder, "Breathe!" before continuing to show Sif around.

He saves the lab for last to give Fitz, Simmons, and Skye a chance to compose themselves. They still have trouble keeping a straight face and Simmons has to be told in no uncertain terms that she cannot take tissue samples from the Asgardian. That, at least, has the effect of taking the attention off Ward who still cannot look Sif in the eye.

Afterwards, he shows Sif into his office and closes the door on three curious faces. "You mentioned a task?" Phil prompts as he sits. "Do you need my help with something?"

Sif smiles, looking him straight in the eye. "I was sent to retrieve the Berserker staff. Enough harm has come from its continued presence here and none wish for it to fall in the wrong hands again."

"I can assure you that the staff is locked away and will be of no harm--"

Sif raises her hand, interrupting Phil. "I am aware of the security of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s sandbox--"

"Wait just a minute. You know about the Sandbox?" he questions, uncaring that he interrupted her.

She answers with one word, "Heimdall."

"Oh," Phil swallows. "You weren't kidding about him watching my every move."

"It is what he does. My brother takes his duty very seriously as do I. And I am under orders to return the staff to its rightful home." She pauses as though giving Phil a chance to catch up. "Please do not take this the wrong way, Son of Coul, but the Allfather is rightly concerned about Asgardian artifacts remaining outside of Asgard. I am sure you understand."

Phil grimaces, offended, but Sif's smile is gentle, almost apologetic and that soothes his irritation. "I suppose," he concedes. "So you want me to help you retrieve the staff?"

She smirks and gives him a sly smile. "That would be preferable to storming the sandbox, don't you think?"

Phil meets her gaze, takes in her bright armor, the confident way she sits across from him. The last thing anyone wants is for there to be problems between Earth and Asgard. With the likelihood of further incursions between worlds, S.H.I.E.L.D. needs all the allies it can get. "Yes, of course. If you don't mind waiting, I will start the ball rolling so that it will be short order to hand the staff over to you once we arrive at the Sandbox."

Sif blinks. "You cannot simply sign a parchment authorizing its removal?"

"I don't have that authority," Phil feels odd admitting that to her.

She shakes her head. "Truly, I do not understand your world, Son of Coul. Will this 'rolling ball' start soon?"

Phil fights a smile. "Right now. Allow me to make a few phone calls and then May will fly us straight there." He stands, urging Sif to do so as well. "And while you wait, I am certain Simmons and Skye would love to talk to you."

"Oh. Yes. Your scientists. Like Thor's beloved. I would enjoy sharing mead and exchanging tales with them."

When Phil opens the door, Fitz, Simmons, and Skye all attempt to look like they were not standing there waiting the entire time, but they fail miserably. He really does need to step up their rudimentary field training. Before he can even ask them to show Sif to the lounge, Skye chimes in and makes the offer, which Sif accepts with a half smile. Fitz and Simmons trail after, their excitement making their chatter rapid and nearly unintelligible. Phil huffs out an amused breath and closes the door only to realize he forgot to confirm that Thor knew he was alive.

Absently rubbing at his chest, he takes a seat and begins the excruciatingly long process of getting an item transferred out of the Sandbox. Even Director Fury's approval only takes Phil so far after the WSC balk. And Phil spends the entire afternoon and overnight flight embroiled in a battle of wills with Nick on the line, both of them trying to convince the WSC that they cannot afford to anger Asgard by keeping an item of significant power from them.

In the end, the most persuasive argument is the simple fact that Sif will take the staff if it is not freely given. If Phil overstates her ability to 'pop-in' beyond all their security measures, Nick doesn't contradict him and the WSC relents.

~~*~~

To add insult to injury, the Omaha airport authorities delay them after they re-fuel, claiming that there was a high-profile celebrity flying in on the adjacent general aviation runway, but Melinda never tracked any landing other than one scheduled commercial jet. Phil surmises it is a last petty jab at them since Phil had gone over their heads to the mayor. _Bureaucrats._ He smiles as they lift off, eager to put Nebraska behind them.

Once they land at the Sandbox, they meet with further roadblocks. Despite repeated assurances that the staff is ready to be turned over to Sif, they spend hours on the tarmac, waiting. And Phil broods. He is in no mood to chat but he also knows that his chance to talk to Sif is quickly slipping away.

Determined to do this, he steps into the lounge and finds Melinda and Sif sitting with their heads pressed together as Melinda seems to be teaching Sif how to knit. Something shakes loose in his chest and he takes a deep breath before interrupting.

"May? If you don't mind, I'd like to borrow the lady for a few minutes."

Melinda looks at him, careful gauges how he's doing. He's never been good at hiding from her but he seems to pass muster and she gives a short nod.

Sif stands, then offers a short bow. "Thank you, Agent Melinda May. I do hope our next visit allows time for further sparring. I am not yet sure how you break my holds and I wish to learn."

Melinda's lips quirk up in what, for her, is an all out grin. "I look forward to it, my lady."

Sif turns to Phil and bids him lead the way. Instead of taking her to his office, they step down the ramp and out of the bus. He wants distance and open air for this conversation. Sif follows along without comment, merely waves at Fitz and Simmons in the lab as they pass. Ward and Skye are nowhere to be seen and Phil gives a relieved breath. Ward wouldn't be a problem, but Skye can't leave well enough alone. Her concern for him is growing on him, but right now he doesn't need any excuse to put this off any longer.

When he stops in the shade of the wing near the edge of the taxiway, Sif stands at ease, her hands behind her back, her gaze warm and understanding.

Phil clears his throat and wonders when he became a coward. No, he knows when that happened, but he can't think about that night, not now. "I'm sorry for the stroll," he begins.

Sif places a warm palm on his forearm. "It is of no matter. I have been to desolate landscapes similar to this before. I much prefer the heat to the ice and unbearable cold."

She's humoring him, being gentle and Phil almost feels ashamed of himself for how much he's eating up her concern. Gritting his teeth, he inhales sharply, then asks, "Does Thor know that I am alive?"

She shrugs. "I cannot say. But there is no reason that he would not. He did request that Heimdall watch over you. I would expect that Heimdall informed him when Valhalla no longer held you."

"So the Avengers know?" he asks, even though he knows Sif can't answer that.

"I am unaware if Thor has visited his new Shieldmates, but he has been terribly preoccupied with quelling dark forces in the nine realms," she answers, then she gives him a private smile. "And he has been spending much time with his Jane."

"Oh." So there is hope that the Avengers do not know.

"But, Son of Coul, your secret life will not remain such forever and the longer that you delay in revealing the truth, the harder it will go when you do so."

"I know, but I-I hurt someone badly with this lie. I--" he stammers. "I was wondering if you would ask Thor to keep my secret to himself?"

She regards him for long moments and it takes all of Phil's composure to keep from fidgeting. "I can ask, but secrets will out and this can only go badly if you do not reveal the truth yourself."

Phil closes his eyes for a brief moment. He had been certain she would not agree. "I am aware of my folly, better than most, my lady. I thank you for helping me."

Two agents approach the bus with the long black case and Phil is relieved for the interruption.

But Sif surprises him. She presses a kiss to his cheek. "Whoever holds your heart will forgive you, but they cannot if you will not trust them," she murmurs.

"Sir!" Ward calls from the plane.

"Here, Ward," Phil replies.

And almost that fast, Sif has the staff, says her good-byes and she's gone in a flash of rainbow light.

"Where to, Sir?" May asks from Phil's side.

He meets Melinda's gaze and replies, "I think it's time we went to New York City, don't you?"

Melinda gives him a quick, there-and-gone smile before answering, "Aye-aye, sir."

Phil can only hope that Sif is right and Thor's been too busy to chat with the Avengers. He guesses he is going to find out soon enough.

The End

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** This satisfies my trope_bingo square: _presumed dead._ Thank goodness for the resurrection of Phil Coulson because I keep getting this square. Every time.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** These are Marvel and Whedon and ABC's characters used in the spirit of creative commons. I promise to return them with smiles on.


End file.
